


Ties That Bind

by Lilac Winters21 (Lilac_Winters21)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU after Avengers, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilac_Winters21/pseuds/Lilac%20Winters21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve's Super Soldier abilities are taken away, how will it impact him and the team? Takes place before Age of Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Steve had a remarkably high pain tolerance. Nearly two decades of getting beat up in back allies tends to do that to a guy. Getting kicked, punched, shoved to the ground - it had rarely fazed him, even when he had bruises rippling up and down his skinny arms. Even on the few occasions where Bucky hadn't been there to step in, and the injuries had been far more serious, he'd clenched his teeth and limped home, though he'd usually realized in the end that his arm or rib was broken, and he should probably get to a hospital after all.

But when he'd been injected with the serum, the pain came close to breaking him. He could feel every one of the cells in his body - feel them twisting and changing, feel them burning from the inside out. He was on fire; he was dying; he was dead and in Hell. The world vanished, thoughts vanished, until only the pain was left. He didn't realize he was screaming, until he felt it scalding his throat.

Through the haze, a single voice cut through: "Shut it down! Shut it down!"

Even in this state, he knew what that would mean: he'd go back to being pathetic, short, and unable to fight. After coming so close to actually being strong enough to help with the war, he couldn't stop now. He had to go through with it. And so, with every ounce of strength left inside him, he bit back the screaming and shouted something instead. He shouted that he could handle it, that he was okay; even though he wasn't.

It was the worst pain he'd gone through in his entire life, and he never thought he'd have to go through anything like it again. Unfortunately, life seldom turns out the way one expects it to: something that was especially true for an Avenger.

It started out as a normal enough encounter. They'd discovered the location of an abandoned Hydra base, and they were investigating it with the hope that they could find some sort of information that would lead them to Loki's scepter. In all likelihood, they knew, any data had been entirely cleared out by Hydra before they'd left, but it was their only lead at the moment, so they lost nothing by pursuing it. Once they arrived, the team split up to search the apparently empty grounds. Steve's voice filled the comms, telling everyone to look out for guards, and watch for any Enhanced. It was a typical warning, one he'd given a million times before, and Tony was about to make some kind of sarcastic comment before Steve's voice returned.

"I think there might be someone here-agh!" He cut off suddenly, the clear implication being that he'd been attacked.

"Everyone converge onto Steve's location," Natasha said. "Let's take the fight to them."

"Let me know if you need me," came Bruce's voice. He was still in the quinjet, waiting in case of a Code Green.

"Cap? What's it looking like?" Clint asked.

"I-" Steve started, and then cut off, the sound of labored breathing coming through instead.

"Captain?"

And that's when the screaming started.

Steve's voice, twisted almost (but not quite) beyond recognition with pain and volume, blared through the comms. The piercing, almost inhumanly loud cries were a verbal knife in the Avengers' ears.

"Jarvis, shut off Cap's microphone!" Tony shouted, eyes watering with pain. The assault on their ears stopped, but they could still hear the screams echoing off the base's walls. A single thought passed between the Avengers: Steve was in trouble, and it was very, very bad.

Forgetting security, forgetting the mission, the Avengers ran (or flew, in Tony's case) as fast as they could in the direction of the screams. If they'd had to describe what they expected, then blood and gore, guns, and monstrous freaks would probably have featured heavily in their minds. But nothing could have been farther from the truth.

The room was empty but for Steve, who was writhing on the floor, screaming in agony. An huge, thick - and empty - syringe lay on the ground beside him, in danger of being crushed as the soldier spasmed helplessly. None of them noticed it, but the door on the other side of the room was swinging slightly as if someone had just passed through. The shock of Steve's appearance was so incredible that not even Natasha, a super spy trained in recognizing minutiae, could take in anything else except the very obvious. Steve Rogers, their unbreakable leader, whom none of them had heard so much as complain about an injury, was screaming on the ground like a helpless child.

But there was another occurrence that was quickly becoming impossible to ignore. It was Natasha, the best among them at noticing every tiny detail, who saw it first.

"The serum is being reversed." She tried to state it unemotionally, as an analysis of the situation, but her voice betrayed the tiniest amount of the shock and worry that was raging inside her. Even as she said it the effects became clear to everyone. Steve was shrinking before their eyes. His muscles were receding; he was getting thinner every second. The change had been slow and hard to see at first, but like a train gathering momentum, it grew faster and faster, and his screams only got louder. He didn't even seem to know they were there.

After a few minutes (though it felt like a few hours), the screams faded into nothing. Steve stiffened for a moment, gasping, then went limp, his eyes rolling back into his head. The Avengers were left to stare at a shortened, skinny, break-him-with-a-touch version of the captain - impossibly different from the man they all knew. The spell of immobility that hung over them shattered like glass, and they all rushed over to surround their leader. Once they made sure that he was still breathing, Tony, still in his suit, carefully lifted the unconscious man and carried him back to the ship. Bruce was waiting for them - he'd heard the screams and Natasha's statement, but of course hadn't been able to see what had been going on. He drew in his breath sharply when he saw Steve.

"How?" He asked, shocked.

"Someone injected him with this." Clint appeared behind Tony, holding the syringe in a thickly-gloved hand. Trace amounts of a blue liquid could be seen round the edges of the glass. "Think you could figure out what was in it?"

"I can, but I'll need the lab."

Clint nodded, handing the syringe to Bruce, who grabbed it delicately in his shirt and took it to be stored for the journey back. Clint was about to say something else when they heard Natasha's voice on comms. She and Thor had stayed back to search the building.

"We've got eyes on the attacker."

"Where are you?" Tony asked. Almost immediately, a bolt of lightning crashed through the air, bursting through the ceiling of the base and pinpointing a spot. Tony was gone almost before the flash had ended. Clint watched him leave, but didn't follow. Someone needed to stay with Bruce and watch over Steve.

Ten minutes later, their teammates returned, dejected and angry. As soon as Cap's attacker had realized he couldn't escape from the three Avengers, he'd popped the cyanide pill in his teeth. He was dead before they could do anything.

"Typical Hydra," Bruce muttered.

Once they were all on board, Clint took off. Though Steve appeared to be stable, they needed to get him back to Avengers tower as soon as possible.

And then they could find a way to fix him. There had to be some way, after all.

Didn't there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to BannerFanner of fanfiction.net for beta reading both this chapter and chapter 2. A note: This takes place between the first Avengers movie and AoU. and may not be canon compliant with AoU (just so you aren't thinking, "well of course he'll get his powers back, he needs them for the next movie!").  
> Another note: The title comes from from the song "Surely Someday" by Adrisaurus.  
> "The ties that bind will always last / Withstanding time for love and friendships past."  
> I don't own the Avengers, and reviews are always appreciated! Please, don't hesitate to be critical, I always want to improve my writing!


	2. Chapter 2

Steve woke up in bed, tangled in the white infirmary sheets. What am I doing here? He wondered silently. The last thing he remembered was scouting out the Hydra base...and then…

The memories came back in a flash; he remembered a pain so intense that it made his mind go dark. He remembered voices, fading away - screams, ringing in his skull.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to focus. Hydra must still be developing new weapons if they could do this to him. He'd have to warn the others. Tony might laugh at him for mothering the team, but not just anything could knock a super soldier out. If it could get to him, it could probably get to Thor as well, and he shuddered to think what it might do to Clint or Natasha - neither of whom had powers or armor to protect them.

Steve groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. It felt strange, almost like he was lighter than usual. He wrote it off as a side-effect, though - a cruel trick from his beaten mind.

"Jarvis?" he called.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?" came the pleasant voice of Tony's A.I.

"How long was I out?"

"About five hours, sir."

Five hours! "Where is everyone?"

"They're in the kitchen. I can call them up here if you-"

"No, that's all right, I'll go to them." Steve wearily dragged himself out of the bed and into a standing position. After only a few steps towards the door, however, he stumbled, nearly pitching forward completely. His center of balance felt entirely off.

"Sir, are you sure you should be-"

"I'm fine, Jarvis."

"Sir, I really wouldn't recommend-"

"I'm fine," Steve insisted. The team was probably worried about him; they'd need to see that he was okay, which meant he would need to make it out of this room.

He managed a few more steps before tripping over a fold in the carpet and crashing down. He threw his arms out to support himself, and almost had a heart attack when he got a look at them.

Those arms...they weren't his; they couldn't be; they were scrawny, bony sticks that looked nothing like his normal bulging limbs. What was going on here?

Grabbing onto a nearby counter, he pulled himself painfully to his feet. Looking down, he saw his body swallowed by an enormous shirt and ill-fitting pants. Only, they weren't some stranger's pair of clothes, they were his own; it was an outfit that had fit just fine when he'd worn it last week.

There lay a bathroom just off from the infirmary, and Steve staggered towards it - though his balance did seem to improve after a few tentative steps. He found a full length mirror just inside the bathroom door, and when he saw his reflection his breath became lodged in his throat. His child-like, pre-serum body shivered slightly, betraying him. Panic bubbled up within him, and he suddenly couldn't breathe. Before he could think he was down on his knees, gasping desperately for breath, instinctively groping for his inhaler - forgetting momentarily that it was long, long gone.

"J-Jarvis..." he choked out.

Downstairs in the kitchen, the Avengers sat tensely around a single table. The voice of Jarvis cut swiftly through the room. "Captain Rogers is having an asthma attack. I believe that immediate assistance is required."

Natasha stood suddenly, knocking over her chair as she strode quickly from the room. The others were fast at her heels.

"Where is he?" she asked the ceiling.

"Steve Rogers is located on the fifth floor in the men's bathroom."

As soon as Natasha reached an elevator she jammed the button and they all crowded in. The second the doors cracked open again the Avengers all piled out, running straight to the infirmary. Natasha flew in first to find the weakened Steve on his knees, wheezing as his face began to turn blue. "Get medicine for him!" she ordered Bruce. He took her arm in a comforting gesture, but she only shook him off. He tried again: "We don't keep asthma medication on hand. Let me-" And yet, before he could do a thing, Natasha was already there. She crouched beside Steve and pulled him gently into an upright position.

"Just breathe," she told him, her voice soft and comforting. "Everything's all right. Just calm down and breathe." Something about her voice seemed to cut through his panic, and the wheezing subsided ever-so-slightly. At some point Bruce had slipped away, and was now returning with an oxygen mask, pulling it over Steve's mouth.

"Let's get him settled," said Bruce, gesturing to the beds. Natasha nodded, gathering Steve in her arms. He felt pathetically light, crumpled against her like a doll.

As she lowered him to the bed, the other three Avengers huddled in the back of the room awkwardly, clearly not knowing how to handle the situation. This was different from a normal injury; it seemed impossible that Captain America could be taken down by something as simple as an asthma attack. Yet here he was, wheezing into an oxygen mask.

When Steve's breathing didn't immediately return to normal, Bruce slid a syringe into his arm; after a minute, Steve's breathing finally evened out and his eyes slid shut.

"Is he all right?" Clint asked as he exchanged worried looks with Natasha, who had joined them after setting Steve settled on the bed.

"He's fine - if a little more unconscious than expected," Bruce said. "I must have given him too high a dose - he doesn't weigh very much. But like I said, he'll be fine. He should wake up sometime in the next hour."

Clint let out a crooked smile at the sleeping figure. "Should we...?" He asked, gesturing toward the door.

"A little more space would be useful. I want someone to stay with him until he wakes up though, in case he panics again. Natasha?" He asked, naming the only one in the room who didn't look vastly uncomfortable in the current setting. She nodded, and took a place in a chair beside Steve's bed. Thor and Clint left the room, but Tony stayed.

"Need help with the samples?" He asked Bruce. As soon as they'd made sure there was nothing immediately life-threatening wrong with Steve, their first priority had been trying to find out the identity of the mystery liquid left in the syringe. Since they'd gotten back they had been running tests on both that and a sample of Steve's blood that they'd taken, only stopping because Clint had forced them to take a break and eat something. With the latest scare, though, food was the last thing on their minds. Bruce nodded his assent.

"Let me know when he wakes up," he said to Natasha as he and Tony exited the room.

As it turned out, it took about an hour and a half before Steve woke up completely.

Conscious came over him like a lazy summer wave. He slowly forced his eyes to open, taking in the bland view of beige ceiling tiles. He groaned quietly as he remembered the asthma attack. How was that even possible? And what he'd seen in the mirror...how?

"Jarvis, can you let Bruce know that Steve's awake?" Steve hadn't realized that there was anyone else in the room until he heard Natasha's voice. He sluggishly rolled over - his body still hadn't fully recovered from the effects of the drug Bruce had given him - to see her sitting beside the bed.

"What happened?" He asked her.

"You had an asthma attack. Bruce had to sedate you-" He cut her off by shaking his head.

Pushing himself into a sitting position - it was awkward to talk to her while lying down - he asked, "No, what happened earlier? Why am I-" he cut off as he gestured at his shrunken body.

"We were at the base and we all split up," She said. Not sure how much he remembered, she started from the beginning. "A Hydra agent snuck up on you and injected you with something. Bruce and Tony are still looking into exactly that something is, but it seems like it reversed the effects of the Super Soldier Serum." At those words, Steve had to smother a choking sense of panic. He certainly didn't need to have another asthma attack.

"Do they know if we can reverse the change?" As he asked, Bruce entered the room.

"We aren't sure. Tony and I are working on it, but we haven't gotten there yet." He answered. Natasha noticed the tiny change in Steve's expression, the brief look of fear in his eyes. Bruce, however, was significantly less adept at reading people, and saw only the simple sadness of a person who'd been inconvenienced. "Although, we haven't been working on it long, so don't worry too much. We'll get it. It could be that it's only a temporary change anyway, and you'll get back to normal on your own. And until then," he continued, "it doesn't seem like there's anything seriously wrong with you physically - nothing life-threatening or new, at least. It's like the serum never happened. You were unconscious for so long initially because your body needed time to recover, but I don't think there's any actual damage." Steve tried to smile, to look grateful, but his mind was still stuck on the phrase it's like the serum never happened.

"All my other problems have returned as well? Not just the asthma?" He fought hard to keep his voice even.

"Looks like it, unfortunately." Bruce said. "Clint managed to find a file on you from back when you were trying to join the army during the war, and it contained a list of your medical problems. The high blood pressure, the heart palpations...everything I could test for is there again. I'm sorry." The sympathy he felt for his leader was clear in his expression.

Steve nodded purposefully, slowly, keeping his features blank like this wasn't something so awful that he couldn't quite believe it. "I...I think I'll go up my room, now. I need a moment alone."

After Bruce nodded to indicate he was free to leave the infirmary, Steve gingerly got out of the bed. The instability from earlier seemed to have vanished. He supposed his mind had gotten used to his body's new size and lack of coordination. Avoiding the gaze of Bruce and Natasha, he made his way to the nearest elevator and vanished inside. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to BannerFanner for beta-reading.


	3. Chapter 3

As much as he absolutely didn't want to, Steve knew he was going to have to leave his room.

It had been two hours since he'd left the infirmary. Two hours since he'd found out that his serum abilities might be gone for good. He still wasn't any closer to coming to terms with the idea.

He was, however, absolutely famished. Apparently, energy-draining transformations made one hungry as well as exhausted. Also, it was late in the evening and he hadn't eaten anything since before the mission.

He'd momentarily toyed with the idea of asking someone to bring him a sandwich up, so he wouldn't have to leave the room, but he'd immediately dismissed the thought. As little as he wanted the others to see him like this, he wasn't an invalid and wasn't going to act like one.

He spent the next ten minutes searching through his room for some clothes that at least would vaguely fit him. The search was in vain; he ended up wearing a old t-shirt that came down mid-thigh on him now, and a pair of jeans that had to roll up and wear a tight belt with. He felt like a kid in his parent's clothes, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He made a mental note to ask Jarvis to order some smaller clothes for him. No, scratch that, he thought. Hopefully, he'd be back to normal soon enough that he wouldn't have to worry about clothes in this size.

He reluctantly made his way out of his room, trudging to the elevator that would take him down to the kitchen. It was late enough that he was hoping no one else would be there. Of course, he had no such luck.

"There were traces left of the serum in his blood, we could work off of those."

"But if the effects of the Vita-Radiation are neutralized, would the serum even still be effective?" Tony and Bruce were taking a coffee break from their research, but even taking a break Steve's problem was the only thing on their minds. They both stopped talking, however, when Steve entered the room. There weren't a lot of things that could make Tony Stark shut up, but despite the fact that he'd already seen the change in Steve, he still didn't expect the former Super Soldier to look that small and scrawny. The sight of him was still a shock that would take time to adjust to. Tony openly stared in fascination as Steve attempted to reach the bread that sat on one of the shelves, something that would have formerly been within easy reach for him. He saw the Steve's shoulders slump as he realized that there was no way he could reach it now, and he watched as Steve defeatedly dragged a chair over to stand on. The sight of their captain-the leader of the team that had stopped aliens from taking over New York-standing on a chair to reach a high shelf like a too-short child was too much for the billionaire; a small laugh escaped him. Steve's head swung around at the noise, and the chair teetered with the sudden shift in balance. His attention was quickly occupied with trying not to fall off the chair, and he stuck his arms out ridiculously in an attempt to regain his balance. The sight only made Tony laugh harder. Regaining control, Steve yanked the bread off the shelf with a force and stepped off the chair, turning to shove it back toward the table. His expression was such a desolate mix of anger, embarrassment, and pain that it wiped the smile straight off Tony's face. In that moment, Steve had looked vulnerable; they'd never seen Captain America look vulnerable. He quickly turned back to the counter, slapping condiments and meat on the bread to make a sandwich, and then almost ran back to the elevator carrying the plate. As soon as the door slid shut, Bruce turned to Tony.

"Laughing at him? Really?" He said in an exasperated tone.

"It was funny!" Tony defended himself, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach and trying to ignore the tiny thought that he'd gone too far this time. Bruce shot him another pained look and took a final gulp of coffee before standing up and heading toward the stairs to the lab. Tony glared sullenly at his back for a moment, and then followed.

Upstairs, the elevator doors dinged open and Steve stepped out, walking quickly back to his room. Entering, he shoved the plate with his sandwich on the stand by his bed. His appetite was long gone. You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle. A long forgotten jab popped into his head, Tony Stark's mocking voice ringing in his ears.

He threw himself onto the bed. He knew it shouldn't bother him, he knew that Tony laughed at everything and anyone and meant nothing by it. He was a grown man, he shouldn't be hurt by something as simple as an unkind laugh. But it did hurt. Memories that he hadn't dug up in years rose quickly to the surface: memories of being taunted for being small, being helpless to stop the bullies from beating him up, memories of challenging them anyway and losing every single time. He buried his face in his hands. As Captain America, as a Super Soldier, people looked to him as a leader. People looked up when he walked in a room; his opinions were listened to and respected. Was all that going to vanish now? Was he going to go back to what he had been before the serum, a loser from Brooklyn, the joke who got beat up in allies?

Stop it, he told himself. It could be temporary. I could wake up tomorrow and be back to my normal self. There was no point in torturing himself like this.

There was, however, not much else to do while he was locking himself in his room. Normally, he didn't spend much time up here; he prefered to be outside, wandering the city, or in a training room, or down with the others. As a result, the room was fairly spartan in style; there was a bed, a nightstand, a dresser for his clothes, but not much else. He ate his sandwich, stared at the wall, tried not to think about what had happened, stared at the wall some more. He thought about trying to sketch something-drawing always helped him calm his mind-but he'd left his sketchbook downstairs, and he wasn't planning on venturing out of the room again tonight. Eventually, sick of being alone with his thoughts, Steve turned off the lights and tried to get to sleep; it was late, after all. Eventually, sleep came to him, but it was a fitful and broken rest. He'd always been a light sleeper before the serum, but even back then he would have considered this a bad night. He woke up the next morning stiff and tired, as if he hadn't slept at all. For a moment, he forgot what had happened the previous day; memory came back in a flash. He wished it hadn't. Still, it was a new day. Odds were that Bruce and Tony would finish with their research soon, and have an answer on what had happened to him. As if in response to his thoughts, Jarvis's voice came over the loudspeaker in his room.

"Dr. Banner requests that you come to the lab as soon as possible. He believes he and Mr. Stark have discovered the identity of the substance that you were injected with." Steve sat bolt upright. This could be good news! Maybe they'd figured out how to fix him. Tugging on his shirt to straighten it out-he was still wearing yesterday's clothes-he hurried out the door and up to the lab. As he entered, the serious expression on Bruce's face stopped him in his tracks. Suddenly, he had the feeling that this wouldn't be good news. And where was Tony?

"So?" Steve asked, his voice even despite the fact that his stomach felt like he had just swallowed a rock.

"We've been studying the contents of the serum you were injected with and comparing it to the effect on your cells. It looks like Hydra injected you with some sort of anti-Vita-Waves."

"Anti-Vita waves?" Steve asked, confused. He was no scientist, but Howard Stark had explained some of the basic concepts of the serum and the machine that had made him into a super soldier, and to his understanding Vita Waves were a type of radiation. What on earth was anti-radiation? Was that even possible? He realized he'd asked the last question aloud when Bruce responded.

"Well...we aren't really sure of what it actually it," He said, shame-faced. It was clear that his pride as a scientist made him ashamed of not having a solid answer to give. "We couldn't actually isolate it in your new blood samples, but we could measure the effects it has, which seems to be reversing the effects of the Vita-Radiation. Your cells have contained trace amounts of Vita-Radiation since you were injected with the serum; the radiation is still there, but it's no longer doing anything".

"Is the anti-Vita-Radiation reversible?" He knew what Bruce was going to say, knew it from the expression on his face and the tone of his voice. He held on to the tiny shred of hope anyway.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Its effects will last as long as there's Vita-Radiation in your body. Even if you could somehow be injected with the serum again, it would no longer be able to affect your body in any way."

Somehow Steve managed to nod. Somehow he managed to thank Bruce for all the research he'd done. Somehow, he managed to stumble out of the lab and back to his room, locking the door behind him.

Somehow, he managed to keep it together as his world shattered all around him.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve only stayed in his room for about a day before deciding that hiding forever wasn’t actually an option. The day after getting the news that the serum reversal was permanent, he went down for breakfast at 9:00 like he always did, and from there on he tried to act as if nothing had changed.  
But it was hard.  
It was hard when Pepper came into the room looking for Tony and didn’t even recognize him at first. It was hard to see the expression on Sam’s face when he’d come by to compare notes on their “missing person” case; it was worse to form the words to tell Sam that he, Steve, was obviously not going to be able to search for Bucky at the moment. It was hard to have to look up to talk to the rest of the Avengers, most of whom he’d been taller than before. It was hard to see the rest of the team all head to Tony’s weight room to train without him - it was even harder when Clint, out of habit, casually tossed out a “You coming Cap?” before freezing, his face contorting in regret as he realized what he’d said. It was hard when he slipped down to the weight room on his own later and he couldn’t lift half of what even Tony and Clint - the only non-Enhanced Avengers - normally lifted.  
What had been the worse of all had been when Jarvis had interrupted their lunch to inform them of information about a new Hydra base.  
“Captain Rogers, intercepted Hyrda communications indicate that Hydra likely has a base in Miami. It could contain information on the location of Loki’s scepter.” Ages ago, Steve had asked Jarvis to let him know immediately if any new information about Hydra was discovered. Steve pushed back his chair and stood up, instinct making him forget his current state.  
“Suit up everyone. Barton, get the quinjet ready - you’re the pilot. I’ll- ” Steve cut off, realizing that he wouldn’t be leading anyone on a mission. An awkward silence filled the room as they all stared at Steve, no one quite certain what to do.  
“Thor, you’re in charge,” Steve said quickly. The Asgardian prince was a born leader - Steve knew he’d do well leading this mission. He'd do well leading the team, a quiet voice in his head whispered. He ignored it, not quite ready to acknowledge that reality yet. Thor nodded slightly, locking eyes with Steve for a moment before turning to the team and beginning to outline a plan of attack. I'm not taking your place, the look seemed to say, but I will lead the team well for you. Steve waited a moment, watching everyone deep in discussion, and then slipped out of his chair (which, like everything else in the tower, was too big for him; his feet didn’t touch the floor when he was sitting down) and left the room. Obviously, he was no longer needed here.  
Back in his room, he sat in a chair in a corner, trying to sketch - the one thing he was still good at, he thought morosely. As his pencil danced across the page, he tried to focus on the drawing instead of the fact that the team was heading out to attack a Hydra base without him. Two hours later, when his pencil tip snapped from a moment of too much pressure and his sketch of the Empire State Building was still only the vaguest outline, he knew he'd failed.  
“Jarvis,” he said, “can you patch me into the team’s comma? Just so I can listen, not so they can hear me,” he added hastily. He knew as well as anyone that distractions - like an unexpected voice on comms - could be fatal in the heat of battle.  
“I can try, Captain,” came the reply. A few seconds later, the sound of gunfire came over the intercom.  
“The Hulk is out of control!” Clint's voice yelled as echoes of the Hulk’s roars could be heard. “Natasha, we need a lullaby, now!”  
“Little busy here!” She sounded winded.  
“Stark, can you cover her?” Thor’s voice came on amidst the sound of more gunshots.  
“Kinda cornered by drones right now,” was Tony’s reply.  
“Guys, the Hulk is seriously not happy! He- argh!” Clint broke off in a cry of pain and shock.  
“Clint!” Natasha’s voice was sharp with worry. A confusing array of jumbled voices and noises followed. Steve couldn’t tell who was talking, but it was clear enough that the mission had gone wrong - and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it.  
“Shut it off Jarvis,” he said, defeated. He’d honestly thought at this point nothing could make him feel worse. Apparently, he’d been wrong. 

When the Avengers returned and after Clint’s injuries - two broken ribs and a broken leg, collarbone, and wrist amid various cuts and bruises - were tended to, Thor told Steve what had happened.  
The information they’d had on the base had stated that it was on an island off the coast of Miami and that it was mainly a hub for communications. It hadn’t included the fact that there were heavy-duty automatic weapons that fired at anything within a two mile radius of the island. When a shot had caught the engine, Clint had barely managed to land the jet safely on the shore of the island. Looking at the damage, Tony had thought he could fix it in about an hour. The plan - to have Natasha and Clint infiltrate the facility while Tony fixed the quinjet and Thor stayed behind to cover him - quickly fell to pieces when a small army of drones and soldiers approached to investigate the disturbance. It took all four of them just to defend themselves and the quinjet while Bruce huddled inside. When more and more drones had just kept on coming, it had become clear that they needed a new edge to give Tony time to fix the engine; Thor had called a Code Green. Bruce had transformed accordingly, but then everything had gone wrong. Apparently, the Hulk didn’t want to take orders from Thor. The Hulk had attacked the drones and drawn attention away from Tony working on the quinjet, but he’d also come dangerously close to killing Clint before Natasha had been able to bring Bruce back. Finally, Tony had been able to fix the quinjet enough that with the assistance of Tony and his suit it had been able to make it off the island. The armor was a wreck from the effort, and though it had mostly protected Tony he too sported a myriad of injuries. All of the team looked significantly worse for wear: Bruce had locked himself in his room, Natasha had a dislocated shoulder, and even Thor looked bruised and weary.  
“I have failed at leading the team, Captain, and for that I apologize,”’ Thor said, finishing the story. Steve waved off the apology.  
“It isn’t your fault,Thor,” because it’s mine, Steve added silently. If I’d been there, I could have helped, I could have done something. I was the one who failed, not you. As if he could sense Steve’s silent addition, Thor once again began to protest, but Steve shook his head.  
“I shouldn't have let Banner go with you without knowing how the Hulk would react to the change in leadership. You did the best you could with the team you had - and you brought everyone home safe and sound. There's nothing more that you could have done.” But there’s everything more that I could have done, he added silently again. Thor abruptly stood up and turned to leave the room. He looked at Steve just before he left.  
“I respect you too much to argue with you, Captain, but you cannot take the blame for my failings. You placed me in charge, and so I am responsible for the failure.” He turned and went through the door, leaving Steve very much alone again. Steve cursed silently as he turned and threw himself into the chair by his desk. No matter what Thor believed, this was entirely his own fault. He should have know to warn Thor that the Hulk might not take orders from him; usually, the Hulk had tolerated Thor, but only barely. Steve always thought it was because the Hulk remembered the first time he’d met Thor, when Thor had attacked the Hulk on the helicarrier. It had been incredibly short-sighted of him to send Bruce in the field under Thor’s leadership. How could he have been so foolish? He was interrupted in this line of thought by a gentle knock on his door.  
“Come in,” he called, surprised, and the door opened to reveal Natasha, her shoulder in a splint.  
“Hey,” she said, moving to sit down on his bed, the only available place in the room. “How’re you holding up?”  
“I should be asking you that,” he replied, not meeting her eyes. “You’re the one who was in the fight.”  
“But you’re the one beating himself up because the mission didn’t go well,” she said. He looked at her, a little startled. Her ability to seemingly read his mind really shouldn't surprise him by now, but it somehow still did.  
“I know Thor’s probably already told you this, but this wasn't your fault,” she said.  
“Wasn't it?” He asked tiredly. “You all chose me to lead this team because you trusted me. I let all of you down when I let the Hyrda agent get the better of me and do this-” he gestured down at himself- “to me.” She looked piercingly at him for a moment.  
“You know the serum didn’t make you invincible, right? It could have been any of us that they got the drop on. But there’s more than that that’s upsetting you, isn’t there?” She asked. He sighed, wishing she wasn't quite so perceptive.  
“I...I don't belong in this century. Everyone I ever knew is dead other than Peggy and Bucky, and they're, well, you know.” Natasha nodded, and Steve ran a thin hand through his hair. “I was lost when I came up out of the ice. Becoming Captain America, becoming the leader of the Howling Commandos, that changed my life. When I woke up and they were all gone...if I wasn't the man who fought Hydra anymore, who was I? And especially at first, there was no one familiar around to help me figure it out. When Fury recruited me to help defeat Loki...being a member of S.H.I.E.L.D, being an Avenger, it gave me a purpose. I could still help people. But now...” His voice trailed off. When he spoke again, it was almost in a whisper. “Now, what can I do? I'm no one without Captain America.” By this time, his head was in his hands and he was looking down, not meeting her eyes.  
“No,” she said, quietly but firmly. He looked up at her quizzically.  
“You aren't no one without Captain America. When Erskine selected you for the serum, he passed over dozens of strong, healthy men. He picked because of who you are, not how strong your body was.” He met her gaze with something vaguely reminiscent of hope in his eyes as she continued.  
“You’re a pretty incredible person, Steve. In the 40s, you applied to join the army five different times when there were men who would pay anything to avoid the draft. You’ve never hesitated to do what you believe is the right thing. Just because you aren’t strong doesn’t mean there’s no good you can do in the world. The thing that made Captain America great wasn’t just the serum, it was you. That’s something no Hydra agent can ever take away.” When he still looked unconvinced, she leaned in closer.  
“It wasn't Captain America who trusted me when I didn’t trust myself after S.H.I.E.L.D fell. That was just Steve Rogers. You’ve made a difference in so many people’s lives, Steve, and not just the people that Captain America saved.” Before he could argue with her, before he could say that he hadn’t been some hero just for wanting to join the army, she stood up. “Just think about it, okay?” She said before turning to leave, carefully closing the door behind her. 

The next day, he approached knocked on the door to her room. When she opened it, he stepped inside. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then said,  
“Thank you for what you said yesterday.” Her words had tumbled around in his head that night before he’d drifted off to sleep. He’d woken up feeling refreshed and almost hopeful for the first time since he’d lost his abilities. She smiled.  
“None of us liked seeing you seem so defeated. Someone needed to talk some sense into you. And-” she hesitated for a moment, but then went on. “And you’ve done a lot for me. Everything that happened when S.H.I.E.L.D fell....you’re my friend, Steve. I haven’t had a lot of friends in my life.” The smile had disappeared, and Natasha looked deadly serious. “I just- I don’t want lose you, Steve. Especially not to your own misery.” He gave her the shadow of a smile.  
“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. “You gave me something to hope for last night.”  
“Good.” She said. He turned to leave.  
“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said, not knowing how else to react to the intensity the conversation had taken on. She nodded.  
“Steve?” She said as he was halfway out the door. He turned.  
“If you ever want to talk again....You know where to find me.” He nodded as he closed the door, a real smile on his face for the first time in the past week.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh....I just realized I never actually posted chapter 5....so here it is. Sorry about the long wait!

Tony Stark was thinking.

Some people - including Steve, when Tony at his most arrogant and irritating - would have called this a rare occurrence. These people only saw the surface of Tony Stark - the marked carelessness, the selfishness, and the alcoholism. They forgot that Tony's fame was not due entirely to his exploits - it was also due to his inventions. His genius, world-changing inventions.

The truth was, Tony Stark was always thinking. Sometimes his ideas carried him off into his own world, where he existed oblivious to everything but his latest project, but simply because he wasn't thinking about the people around him didn't mean that he wasn't thinking at all. What was somewhat irregular about this particular thought sequence, however, was that it involved concern for Steve.

Tony had never seen Steve Rogers act like this. As a child, Tony had heard stories of Captain America from his father. To hear Howard Stark talk, Steve Rogers had never done anything wrong: he'd been courageous in the face of great danger, he was the best man Howard had ever know, he'd had more moral fiber than the entire rest of the U.S. Army, he'd never given up a fight, he'd been willing to sacrifice even his own life to save his country, and on and on and on about how perfect the man had been. When Steve had come up from the ice, the actual man hadn't quite measured up to Howard's idealized memories, but the gist hadn't been far off; in many ways, Steve Rogers really did seem to be the idealized American. Tony had seen Steve's "Captain America" image slip a few times, but he'd never seen it as completely shattered as it was now. Gone were Steve's seemingly natural confidence in his own actions, gone was the aura of leadership that he had projected. Now, Steve moved shadow-like throughout Avengers Tower, rarely talking to anyone more than absolutely necessary. Every time the topic of fighting or anything related to their work as Avengers came up, Steve quietly left the room. Things had been a little better ever since Natasha talked to Steve, but the man still drifted through the tower purposelessly, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself.

In essence, what Tony Stark concluded was that things couldn't go on as they were. Someone needed to do something, and if no one else would, that someone was going to have to be him. So he did what he was best: he went down into the lower levels of Avengers Tower and started to build.

Tony knew his limits, even if he chose to ignore them on occasion, and he knew he was no Dr. Erskine. He simply didn't have the background in biology or medicine to attempt to create anything biological that could recreate the effects of the serum in Steve; even if he were a medical genius, he and Bruce weren't even sure such a thing was possible. Tony's specialty was building machines; if he could build something that could allow Steve to fight again... He spent the rest of that day and all night down in his workshop sketching blueprints, planning, getting Jarvis to run simulations on his theories. When Jarvis reported to Pepper that Tony hadn't left the workshop in over 24 hours, Pepper sent Bruce down to drag Tony out to eat something and get some sleep. Bruce found Tony asleep with his head on his desk. Around him was an array of blueprints, sketches, and various sheets filled with scribbled notes. Feeling somewhat guilty for looking at one of Tony's personal projects, Bruce picked up the nearest blueprint and studied it.

"Interesting," he muttered. "But why would you need...?" He picked up the sheet of notes scribbled beside it.

"...in order to simulate an inhaler..." He read under his breath. "Well, you'd need to allow for adjustments for the individual's medication dose..." He muttered again, looking over the rest of the notes. "I still don't see..." Then it hit Bruce: what he was looking at, what Tony was doing. He stared at the sleeping man in surprise.

"You're building Steve an Iron Man suit," he said.

"Not an Iron Man suit," Tony mumbled sleepily. Bruce realized he'd woken him up. "A Captain America suit."

"Created to work with all of his disabilities?" Bruce asked. Tony nodded. Bruce was speechless. It hadn't occurred to him - or to any of the other Avengers, for that matter - that there was anything that could be done to allow Steve to come back into the field. When the tests had shown that Steve's serum-given abilities were gone for good, Bruce had simply accepted that that was the end of the matter. Given his own past disastrous attempt at trying to create a Super Soldier formula, Bruce hadn't dared to even think about trying to create something to return Steve's powers to him. But Tony had never been one to accept limitations. He looked down at Tony, who had grabbed a pencil and was in the process of correcting a measurement on one of his sketches.

"Come on, you need to get some sleep in a real bed," Bruce said, helping him to stand. Tony gestured bleary eyed at the mess around him.

"I couldn't get the inhaler application to work correctly," he mumbled in protest.

"That's because you're exhausted. Besides, you could use the help of someone who actually has a medical degree." Tony looked at Bruce, a question in his eyes.

"Of course I'll help," Bruce said, smiling. "But for now, you need to get some real sleep. In a bed. And you should eat something." Tony protested, but Bruce put his hand on Tony's shoulder and steered him toward the elevator. Tony was too exhausted to resist.

That evening, though, after Tony had slept and after Pepper had made sure he'd actually eaten a decent meal, he and Bruce were back in the lab working. Tony planned and built and Bruce discussed the merits of each of the designs and added his own suggestions. By the next night, Pepper was dragging both of them out of the lab to get some sleep.

It took a week of working almost around the clock. Natasha, Clint, and Thor all eventually made their way down to see what the latest and greatest project by the tower's two scientists was. Clint whistled appreciatively when he saw the half-finished prototype; Thor nodded approvingly; Natasha had a few suggestions of her own on how the suit could be modify to allow Steve to still use his shield. Realizing the validity of her ideas, Tony had promptly modified the design enough to incorporate them.

Bruce worried over the fact that the suit had never been tested by a human user; they'd run it by remote control, but none of them were small enough to fit into a Steve-sized suit, and Tony was adamant that the armor would be a surprise.

It had actually been fairly difficult to keep Steve out of the basement. Without much to do, he'd taken to wandering around the tower, and he'd been curious about what new machine was so interesting that Tony had dragged Bruce into working on it. He'd been on his way down into the basement workshop when Tony, after being quietly alerted by Jarvis, had walked up to stop him.

"Sorry, the workshop is currently off limits to anyone without a PhD," Tony said. Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, Tony, I know you're always eager to show off your projects. What is it this time?"

"Kinda in the middle of testing right now. Not really the place for someone of your delicate composition," Tony replied. Steve's eyes blazed with anger, and without a word he turned and made his way back up the stairs. Tony felt a twinge of guilt, but insulting Steve had been the best way to keep him away from the basement until the armor was ready. And besides, it wasn't like he wouldn't make it up to him.

"Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark has requested that you come down to the basement." Jarvis's voice woke Steve up from a nap. He still was having trouble sleeping, and often crashed in the middle of the day.

"Tell him I'm on my way Jarvis," Steve said groggily. He had half a mind to tell Tony he'd come down when he was good and ready to after Tony's refusal to let him into the basement the previous day, but he really was curious about what Tony's latest invention was. He dragged himself out of bed and set off toward the elevator to the basement.

Tony simply hadn't been able to resist a dramatic reveal of the Captain America armor. When Steve stepped into the basement, the room was pitch black.

"Tony, what the he-"

"It has come to my attention," came Tony's voice over a loudspeaker, "that a due to an unfortunate mishap, our Captain was no longer able to be a part of our team. In an attempt to remedy that, I present to you all...the Captain America armor." A glowing white star lit up in the center of the room. Then, a spotlight appeared over the star. His eyes dazzled by the sudden influx of light, Steve couldn't make out the details of the shape at first. Then, as his eyes adjusted, he realized what he was looking at.

The shape of the armor was essentially the same as Tony's Iron Man armor and Rhodey's War Machine armor. The armor's head, however, was painted to imitate his Captain America mask; the eyes were the glowing half oval shapes of the eye holes in the mask instead of rectangular slits. The rest of the body was painted similarly, imitating his costume even down to the brown boots and utility belt he usually wore. Best of all, it held his shield on its right arm. The armor was made by Tony, sure, but it didn't look like Iron Man. It looked like Captain America. Steve stood speechless at the sight. The rest of the lights finally turned on, revealing the other Avengers and of course Tony, who was looking proudly at his creation.

"It's modified to deal with all of your health issues: asthma, high blood pressure, weak heart, everything. I even added platforms to the feet so you'll be around the same height as the rest of us. It'll take you some time to learn how to use the armor, but once you do..."

"You'll be as good in the field as you were before," Bruce added. "Better, even, since you'll be bulletproof and able to fly."

"I...I don't know how to thank you both," Steve said, his voice thick with emotion. "This is-"

"Incredible? Of course it is. I built it after all," Tony cut in. At the moment, Steve was for once grateful for Tony's arrogance; it gave him time to compose himself.

"Don't thank me," Bruce said. "It was Tony's idea. I just provided medical knowledge."

"Don't sell yourself short," Tony said to Bruce. "It wouldn't have been possible to do without him. Though to be fair, it was my brilliant design that he was working with, so how could it have been anything but awesome?" And you don't need to thank me," he said to Steve, who had opened his mouth to do just that. "I'm just doing my job to make sure that us Avengers keep Avenging. You know, like I always do." Steve had to laugh at the comment. It was clear Tony was unwilling to allow him to make the moment emotional. All the same, Steve couldn't let this gift simply pass by. He turned back to Tony.

"Really, thank you Tony," He said. "It's perfect."

"Of course it it," Tony said, and both men smiled.


End file.
